Stitch in Time
by I Shot The Sheriff
Summary: “So you’re the manifestation of an ineffable human conception?” Maria sighed heavily. “Yes, I suppose so.”
1. Chapter 1

**Stitch in Time**

**Word Count**:

**Chapter One**: In Which The Scene Is Almost Set.

**Summery**: "So you're the manifestation of an ineffable human conception?" Maria sighed heavily. "Yes, I suppose so."

**A/N**: This is my first story that's: longer than a one shot drabble; a Doctor-Who fic; on this site. I won't insult your intelligence by asking you to 'be nice', but if you could give some constructive criticism, it would be much appreciated.

* * *

"So you're telling me that we're dropping everything to answer the intergalactic equivalent of a text message?" 

"Yeah, that's the gist of it."

"Okay, just so long as we're clear on that." Martha stared up at the moving column in the TARDIS control room, and was finding it hard to not feel slightly bitter about the whole thing. They'd been enjoying a rare break from universe saving on the Musical Islands of Klatch, the most remote and picturesque planet in the Eden Sector of the Hawthorn Galaxy. They'd looked like a real, unassuming couple, and Martha could sense that the Doctor was _finally_ starting to unwind, when his psychic paper buzzed with a message: 'Urgent. Please Come Now. Coordinates follow.' So much for unwinding.

The column ground to a halt and the Doctor looked at the computer screen. "Ah. I was right. This makes it interesting."

"What makes what interesting?"

He looked over to Martha, and smiled placidly. "Oh, nothing, just – nah, it's nothing," he said, striding over to the door. "Ladies first?"

"When you tell me where we are, yeah."

The Doctor yanked open the door. "Welcome to the Year 2784, and the Seat of the Emperor of Mexico, formally known as Seattle."

Martha stepped outside, unsure of what to expect.

Later, she reasoned, it wasn't _that_.

A seething metropolis spread out before them. Towering skyscrapers reaching dizzying heights and hundreds of thousands of people were scattered below, above and before them. Cars and vehicles buzzed above the tops of the towers, some diving down and some rising into the invisible roads in the sky. Martha realised that this was the urban jungle; the canopy gave way to the middle section where they were and the undergrowth was dark and dangerous, infested with vagabonds and low-lifes.

"Erm, Doctor?" She said when she'd found her voice.

"Yeah?"

"What are we standing on?" Underneath them, there was nothing but air, and yet it felt like solid ground. Layers of people above and below were walking on thin air, completely un-bothered by this physics-defying feat.

"Quantum flooring transparency experiment. Allows us lot to walk above the lower levels without being mugged and it gives them light and air. Good innit?"

"So we're-"

"Walking through the air, yeah." He smiled brightly. "Shall we?"

* * *

As they walked on, Martha realised that she was breathing in fresh air, highly unusual for a city. "Where's all the pollution? I mean, I don't miss it, I'm just-" 

"Wondering why we aren't choking on carbon dioxide fumes by now? If we'd arrived in 2307, we would have been. That's when the world seemed to crack The last remnants of North Pole was seen off in three day, half of the ice on Greenland slid into the sea and the Gulf Stream froze. Almost everyone in Western civilization froze or downed because of that.

"Complete and utter chaos reined supreme until 2563, when a Mexican king declared himself ruler of the American Empire, sorted out the huddled masses and helped the crippled planet get back into shape. Oh, and he re-populated an entire continent."

"What, by himself?"

"Cheeky – nah, he made north America… live-able in once more and sent people to make it great again. However, he was reputable for having a number of illicit affairs, and he's said to have had 135 children. Still, he was probably just living up to his namesake – Hugo Fernando Casanova El Grande," he said, rolling the 'R's' with relish. Martha shook her head in disbelief.

"Casanova saved the world? Alright then, say I believe you – that still doesn't explain the lack of CO2 though".

"I was getting there! Casanova got the greatest scientific minds and engineers to build a huge fan, that sort of sucked away the harmful gasses."

"How big was the fan?" Asked Martha, a small smile playing in the corner of her lips. However, she was beginning to notice the stares from passers-by directed at the Doctor. Almost everyone was Hispanic or Black, and there didn't seem to be another Caucasian face in the bustling crowds. She saw out of the corner of her eye, 'No Whites Allowed on this Level', and chill ran down her spin.

"Oooh, the size of Australia?" Said the Doctor, seemingly oblivious to the growing tension. "It worked too well – the air's too clean now, and you lot had evolved to deal with dirty air. People get dizzy and faint, which doesn't sound too bad, unless it's at the top of the stairs in one of those things." He pointed to a looming skyscraper.

"Ouch, nasty."

"Yeah, not very nice."

"Doctor?"

"Hmm?"

"Why is everyone staring at you?" They stopped walking. Everyone was watching them, some looked shocked and appalled. People walking above and below had stopped to look at them. An angry buzz started, and a huge black man approached the Doctor. "No whites on this level, _amigo_, can't you read? Señorita, is this guy bothering you?" He said to Martha, a menacing growl in his voice.

"Er, no he's-"

"Señor! That's enough!" Martha whirled around to the source of the voice. A few people gasped and some bowed low as a harried looking woman walked quickly towards them . "This man is a friend of mine. He will be treated with dignity and respesct. Understand?" An affirmative rippled through the multitude. "Now, on your way, all of you." As the throng dispersed, she said to the Doctor, "Call me Maria Mensajero. Shall we talk somewhere a bit more… secluded? My office, perhaps?"

"Yes, capital idea!" He said loudly, but with a forced grin. To Maria, he hissed, "What the Hell do you want?"

"Please, I'll explain later, just come with me," She whispered as they walked away from the masses, Martha hurrying to keep up.

"Will someone please explain what's going on? Doctor?"

"Martha this is Maria. She's a Time An -"

"Doctor! Later!" Martha interrupted. "Martha? It'll all be explained. But please, not here. Not now." The Doctor made a 'humph' noise, and together the three walked towards Mensajero Towers.

* * *

Well, that's the first chapter. I've tried to iron out the creases, but if you spot anything, please let me know. 

Next chapter will be up soon.

x


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: If I owned Doctor Who, I wouldn't bring Rose back, that's for sure. But as she is back, you can see that I obviously don't own anything.

Title: In Which Exposition Takes Place In a Really Big Flat

Word count: 1 191

A/N: All I can say is I'm truly sorry this took so long to update. If not been feeling myself recently, and I had no energy to do anything other than work and go to college. And also, I lost my notes on this story. I will try to be speedier with the updates, but exams, the are a-looming – this smacks of excusism, but all I can say is I'll try.

* * *

"Talk. Now."

The Doctor had slumped into the biggest sofa Martha had ever seen, matching the astonishing size of Maria's apartment, which took up the entire top floor of the tower lock. The view… was stunning, but neither of them noticed. The Doctor eyeballed Maria with such intense hatred that Martha wondered if he was trying to burn a hole through her. Maria simply stood in front of him, wringing her hands nervously. Now she'd got him up here, after the fiasco with the troll-brained door guard, she seemed at a loss for words.

"Fine, I'll begin the pleasantries, shall I?" The Doctor growled, looking anything but pleasant. "Martha, this is Maria Mesenjaro, a Time Angel as old as the Universe."

A pause.

"A _what_?"

"A Time Angel, sent by God at the beginning of Time to watch over His most precious creation," Maria said, only briefly glancing at Martha as she spoke.

"Only they got uppity, kicked God out of His club -"

"I swear I had nothing to do with that!"

"- and so Time Lords evolved to put the Angels in their place."

Martha stared from Lord to Angel. "Angel's kicked God out of the Universe?"

"We were forced to let Him back in by the Lords, in a fierce battle where many of us were killed," Maria said, still staring at the Doctor. Martha couldn't believe what she was hearing.

"So you're an ineffable manifestation of a human conception?" She said abruptly, making the Doctor lower his defences and allowing a flicker of a grin cross his features. Maria sighed heavily.

"Yes, I suppose so. My Lord," she knelt in front of the Doctor grasping his hand. "I need your help." The Doctor seemed moved by this display of devotion. Martha wondered how many men would kill to have Maria Mesenjaro look at them like that; tears were filling her eyes, threatening her perfectly placed eyeliner and fake eyelashes. Martha didn't like being dismissed so offhandedly, and was pleased when the Doctor looked annoyed at Maria for insulting her.

"Go on out with it, Angel." He dripped acidity on the last word, twisting it into the verbal slap on the face. She stood up, shocked at his coldness, but recovered instantaneously.

"Future is getting younger by the minute My Lord – She's dying."

This sounded like a code, because the Doctor leapt out of his chair, jolted by the news. Martha looked blankly at them both.

"Is Past with her?" He said, leaving Martha well behind.

"Yes, and Present. I left them an hour ago to find you."

"Show me to them." Maria turned her heal and sped away, the Doctor and a thoroughly confused Martha trailing in her wake.

"Doctor, what's going on? What's Past, Future and Present?" She said, panting slightly and they navigated their way through Maria's massive home.

"Maria isn't the only Angel – Past, Future and Present are too; they're like the Fates, you know?"

"Okay – but why is Future getting younger? They'd stopped outside a door way, Maria turned to them.

"I'll go first, she if Future can handle an extra visitor. Martha, you are a lucky lady; you're the first human to have ever seen us and known who we truly are." She slid into the door, clicking it shut behind her.

"Future started life as the oldest possible thing – she was as old as the Universe was young. She grows younger as the Universe grows older, and she's a sort of barometer for God, showing him how much time His universe had left. If Future is getting younger quicker than she's supposed to," The Doctor turned to face her, his eyes full of a primal fear that shook Martha to her core, "Then the universe is about to end, and not even I can stop that."

Maria opened the door to them, worry etched across her features. "You may enter, but please don't distress her." The Doctor walked in wordlessly, his jaw set, eyes focused.

Martha stepped in behind the Doctor, and goggled at the vastness of the room, she realised that Maria must have TARDIS technology at work; no where could a tower be this spread out. The Fate-like Angels were near them, all manner of machines and monitors surrounding the bed, yet Martha didn't recognise any of the equipment. They approached cautiously, realising that any sudden movements could destroy the universe. Maria was no longer timid and nervy, but marched to the bed, where Martha presumed Future lay.

"Doctor she's here," she said flatly. The Doctor walked to the bed, and swore quietly. The two other women (_Angels_, Martha corrected) stood up and curtsied at their Lord. He ignored them, but took out his sonic screwdriver and began examining the Angel on the bed.

"Her organs are still fully developed and she's not beginning to loose IQ too rapidly. She is getting weaker though, and it won't be long until her brain starts to shrink," The Doctor said, Martha hearing the slight hesitation before the word 'brain'.

"What is her IQ? We checked last night and it was five thousand and thirty seven," said the one on the left, wearing the same clothes as the people outside with her hair coloured the same way too. _Ah_, thought Martha_, You're Present_.

"Four thousand, nine hundred and ninety three," The Doctor replied. A middle-aged woman dressed archaicly with her hair pulled back in a bun shook her head in disbelief. _And you're Past, then. _Martha still hadn't seen Future, and gently pushed past Maria, who was standing at the foot of the bed, saw the reason for all of this. She gasped in horror.

It wasn't an old woman, or a middle-aged woman, or even a young woman lying on the bed, with hundreds of tubes leading out from her.

She looked ten years old.

And the Doctor had tears in his eyes.

* * *

A/N: Hope that was long enough for you all! I'm sorry there wasn't much action, but I'm still sort of finding my feet with this one. It's swung itself in an entirely different direction than what I was hoping, but that's the way the rolling stone moves, then so be it.

Thanks for reading!


End file.
